Shadow Play (23 page)

“You won't get it. Why are you even trying? This is who I am. Every bit of me belongs to you, but I can't change who that person is.” His hand tightened on her own. “Hey, do you think that I don't want to run your life so that you'll be safe forever? Sometimes I try to do it. But I'm never going to ask you to be someone else because sometimes I get scared. I'll just work around it.”

As he'd done when he'd tried to convince her not to go to Tahoe. He'd accepted, then applied every ounce of his intelligence and strength to make the decision work for him. She was silent, gazing at him. “Like you did tonight.”

“Yep. But that's not so bad. We've done pretty well so far.”

All the years, all the love. “So far … But tonight it almost crashed and burned.” She stood up and leaned forward to kiss him. “I'll be back soon. I'll go and tell the head nurse that you're awake.”

“Fine. When am I being released?”

He wasn't going to like this. “The doctor will be in later, but he's going to err on the side of caution. He said the earliest will be four or five days.”

“Bullshit,” he said flatly.

“Talk to him. The surgery wasn't all that easy. He said if you rip those stitches before they're healed, you could bleed to death.” She heard him mutter a curse before she hurried from the room. “I'll see you later.”

*   *   *

“How is he doing?”

Eve turned away from the nurses' station to see Nalchek walking down the hall toward her. “Not bad. Could be a lot better. But I'll take it. Unfortunately, Joe isn't likely to agree. They're going to have to fight to keep him here for more than a day or two. He's stubborn as hell.”

“I got that impression.” He glanced down the hall at Joe's room. “And damn tough. The Nevada PD said he pulled off an amazing stunt out there.”

“He's always amazing.” And strong, and smart, and more complex than anyone would dream. “And I've got to figure a way to keep him from bolting out of here.”

“I could ask the PD to find a minor crime with which to charge him.” He made a face. “But I don't want Quinn for an enemy. I don't believe he's one to forgive and forget.”

“No way. My problem.” She turned to look at him. “Any news about Walsh?”

“Nothing good. They found an abandoned rental car on the shore a few miles away, and forensics is going over it. He probably had a speedboat waiting.”

“I'm grateful for your responding to my SOS and getting us out of those mountains. Thank you, Nalchek.”

“I'd say you're welcome, but I'm still pissed off that you didn't involve me in the beginning,” he said grimly. “It might have turned out differently if I'd been there for backup.”

“We were playing it by ear.”

“And leaving me out.”

“Yes. We didn't know what to expect.”

“That's not going to happen again,” he said grimly. “You owe me. I want to know everything you know about Walsh.”

He was right, they did owe him. “I didn't mean to exclude you. It just … happened.” She quickly filled him in on everything they'd learned or suspected about Walsh. “I agree that we have to share information. It's only sensible.”

His lips twisted. “But you and Quinn are so close that you practically finish each other's sentences. I can
see
it. I'll have to watch you like a hawk to keep you from doing it to me again.” He met her gaze. “You need me. I should have been there for you. You'll notice you didn't seem to do too well if that—”

“Maybe not,” she interrupted. “We lost Walsh. But we got the reconstruction.”

“So you told me when you phoned. Where is it?”

“In a canvas bag at the administration office. I left it there when they checked Joe into ER.”

“I want it. Let's go down and get it.”

“Not yet. I have to make a few minor repairs. Then I'll hand it over.” She rubbed her temple. “Then I have to call Margaret. She has a right to know what's happening.”

“I already called her.”

She glanced at him in surprise. “You did?”

“After we knew Quinn wasn't going to die. I thought you'd want her to know.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“She said she'd be at the hospital as soon as you let her know you need her.” His lips twisted. “She's probably planning on hitchhiking. I'll see that she has a ride.”

“You're being very cooperative.”

“Haven't you heard? Margaret says I'm one of the good guys. Not with sterling qualifications, and I could fall from grace at any moment.” He shrugged. “So I have to work on keeping on her good side. She might set her coyote on me.”

“I doubt it.”

“I don't doubt anything about what she might do. She's one of a kind, and I'm not certain what kind.” He changed the subject. “How quick can you manage to repair that skull?”

“I should have her finished by this afternoon.” She paused. “But I want to know what news sources you're going to go to with the reconstruction.”

“You don't trust me?”

“I didn't say that. But I lost her once. I don't want that to happen again. I want to be able to control the distribution of her photo.”

“I suppose I shouldn't be surprised if you're being proprietary, but might I remind you that I'm the one who sent Jenny to you.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “You didn't by any chance get a call from Margaret since you've been here at the hospital?”

“What?” She gazed at him in bewilderment. “I don't know what you're talking about. You're the one who told Margaret about Joe.”

He nodded curtly. “Just a thought. Margaret and I haven't been on the best of terms since we met. You were prepared to trust me before.”

“Trust has nothing to do with it. I'd just feel better to be involved all the way through the process.”

“I could confiscate the skull.”

“Yes, you could. But then you'd have me on your back instead of by your side. You don't want that.”

He didn't speak for a moment. “No, I don't.” He turned away. “Let me know where you'll be working, and I'll be there to pick it up this afternoon.”

She had a thought. “Come here. I'll try to get permission to do the repairs here in Joe's room. I want to keep an eye on him, and it might make him a little more complacent if I'm with him, and he feels part of the process.” She added ruefully, “Complacent? That term doesn't apply to Joe in any sense of the word. Oh, well, I'll have to do what I can.”

“And that appears to be pretty impressive.” He paused at the elevator. “I'll give the hospital administration a call and rattle off your credentials so that they won't give you trouble about bringing a skull onto the floor. Sometimes they can be a little touchy about things like that.”

“I can do that myself.”

“You're shutting me out again.” He punched the button. “I'm law enforcement. Use me.”

She shrugged. “I'm accustomed to doing everything for myself. No offense.”

“None taken.” He got on the elevator. “And I'll let you tag along with me when I take the skull to a few reporters with whom I've had good luck. You might be an asset.”

“Thank you. I can't tell you how I appreciate your cooperation,” she said with gentle sarcasm.

“Now you know how I've been feeling.”

Before she could answer, the elevator doors closed.

She wrinkled her nose as she turned away. It was clear she hadn't handled Nalchek with any great degree of diplomacy and had managed to annoy him.

Too bad. She respected and admired him but she couldn't please everyone, and the main issue was to get Walsh before he could kill again. But he was right, it was time to use him.

But not right now. She wearily rubbed the back of her neck. She would call and arrange for her supplies to be sent to the hospital. Then she would beg a bed for the next few hours and sleep before she started to work.

But first she would go back to Joe and fill him in on the current plan and try to make it as palatable as possible for him. It would not be easy. As she had told Nalchek, Joe did not forgive and forget. He would have planned to go after Walsh even if he had not been shot. Now he would be totally relentless.

And that's what she must be until she managed to stop Walsh. She might have only a few days before Joe was on the hunt again, and he was hurt and vulnerable. Yes, she would use Nalchek and anyone else to find Walsh before Joe had to face him again.

He's dead, you bitch. And you'll be dead, too. You can't stop me.

The hell I can't. Watch me.

*   *   *

“Quite a setup.” Nalchek was standing in the doorway of Joe's room, his gaze on Eve, who was standing at a makeshift stand across the room, working on Jenny's reconstruction. “Is she much worse for wear? She doesn't look it. That sketch you drew looks just like her.”

“Not much damage.” She shook her head at Joe. “He took better care of her than he did himself.”

“I wasn't about to let it be destroyed,” Joe said as he glanced at Nalchek. “I suppose I owe you thanks for the way you responded to Eve's call. You got those police helicopters out to us with amazing speed, considering that they were out of your jurisdiction. I know how difficult it can be bridging the red tape when it's not your own guys.”

Nalchek shrugged. “I've made it a point since I became sheriff to establish friendly relationships with other police departments both statewide and in close neighboring states. You can never tell when you're going to need a favor.”

“You must have done a good job. I was impressed.”

“But they didn't snag Walsh.”

“No, but we'll get him. That bastard isn't going to take anything from us ever again.”

“Sounds good.” Nalchek smiled at Eve. “Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on both her and the reconstruction.”

Oh, shit. He couldn't have said anything that would have made Joe feel his helplessness more. Eve could see the immediate tension that tautened Joe's body. She said quickly, “Not your job.” She picked up the towel on the worktable and wiped her hands. “But it is your job to take Jenny for her first viewing.” She nodded at the box on the chair. “Pack her up, and we'll be on our way.”

“Okay.” He moved across the room and carefully took the reconstruction and placed it in the box. “If you still want to go with me.”

“I told you I did. Which journalist did you place first on the list?”

“Terry Brandell. She writes a weekly column and has national syndication. But she's very popular in California and Oregon. She's helped me out before a couple times.” He closed the box. “Though never with anything quite like this. She's more into tough, investigative police work than lost and found.”

“This is definitely investigative police work.”

“But that face is … wrenching. Children always evoke an emotional response. She prefers the cool, analytical approach.”

“No, there's nothing cool and analytical about anything to do with Jenny.” She moved toward the bed and gave Joe a quick kiss. “I'll call you.” She headed for the door. “Let's get this over with, Nalchek. The sooner your reporter gets Jenny's face in her column the better.”

*   *   *

“I suppose Nalchek told you that this kind of curiosity/human-interest stuff isn't really my cup of tea?” Terry Brandell asked as she looked down at the box. “I'm surprised he brought this skull to me.”

“He said you would give it the greatest amount of coverage,” Eve said bluntly. “And this reconstruction is not a curiosity. It's a little girl who was murdered and needs the justice she never had. If you think that's a human-interest story, then we disagree. Personally, I believe it's a terrible tragedy that deserves being exposed and rectified. If you're willing to do that, then we've come to the right place. If not, say it now, and we'll find someone else. I have no intention of begging you to do the right thing.”

The journalist blinked. “I can see that.” She glanced at Nalchek. “And I like her honesty. When you called me, I did a little research, and when I checked her credentials, I was thinking of doing an interview. How about a trade?”

“No,” Eve said. “I'm not the story. This little girl is the story, and I won't have her cheated or overshadowed.”

“You heard the lady.” Nalchek was smiling. “I'm open for a deal on future information for your articles, but this one is off the table, Terry.”

“Interesting.” She tilted her head. “Particularly since this isn't exactly what I'd think you'd be involved in, Nalchek.”

“Yes or no,” Eve said. “I don't know how much time we have.”

“You can't convince me there's a hurry. She's been dead eight years.”

Eve didn't answer.

“Or are there new breaks in the case?”

“How can there be?” Nalchek asked. “We don't know who she is. That's how you're going to help us.”

“Maybe.”

Eve shook her head. “Yes or no.”

Terry shrugged. “Yes. Why not? I always like to have Nalchek owe me.” She reached for the box. “Show me the kid.”

Eve opened the box and carefully drew out the reconstruction. She put it on the desk in front of the journalist.

Terry Brandell studied the skull. “Very unusual. Are you sure that you didn't indulge your creativity a bit on this one, Ms. Duncan?”

“I'm sure,” Eve said. “When you locate a photo of her, I'd bet that the similarity will be very close, Ms. Brandell.”

“Terry.
If
we locate a photo.” Terry's gaze was fixed on Jenny's delicate features. “But if someone has seen her, it's likely she would be remembered.”